


Better Off Sober

by shanachie



Series: Walk o Shame (Christmas 2017) [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A character in an awkward situation but nothing bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/pseuds/shanachie
Summary: It’s Walk o Shame time for someone…Prompt:One of the characters is still wearing the clothes from the night before.





	Better Off Sober

**Author's Note:**

  * For [its_not_my_fault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_not_my_fault/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** No one recognizable belongs to me. Not making any money off this.  
>  **Second Disclaimer** Despite being fanfiction, this is MY work and I do not give anyone or any other site permission to republish this story under my name or any other without my authorization.  
>  **Author's Note:** I decided to do something a little different for my Christmas stories this year. I wrote in varying fandoms (chosen by the giftees) on the theme of “Walk of Shame”. I had a lot of fun with these. And tinhutlady was awesome with editing and commenting on _all_ of them, even the fandoms she didn’t know! Hope you enjoy!

Clint groaned, grabbed the pillow that rubbed against his head, and pulled it over his face, blocking the light from stabbing him in the eyes. “How much did we drink last night?” he mumbled.

The body next to him twitched before releasing a groan that echoed his. “Probably more than we should have.”

The voice that answered him was not the one he expected, but he wasn’t sorry, though it did cause him to sit up.

“Darcy?!”

Darcy’s head poked out of the blankets, her curls in disarray. “Ow. Not so loud, birdbrain.”

“Why are you in my bed?”

“Try again. You’re in _my_ bed, Barton.”

Her words caused Clint to jerk his head around; a bad idea as an entire rhythm section went off behind his eyeballs. A quick glance was enough to show her statement correct as he recognized nothing in the room. “What _happened_ last night?” He plopped back down, groaning when he jostled the bed.

“Bar. Drinking.” The blanket lifted as she checked something. “Some sort of strip show I’m assuming.”

“Did we… but we didn’t… Did we sleep together?”

“Well, we slept together, but I don’t think we _slept_ together. At least I still have underwear on. And I _don’t_ generally if I’ve done that. Cuz who wants to bother getting dressed again? This isn’t the movies.”

Clint grinned. “Good. I’d want to remember it if we did have sex.” He clapped a hand over his mouth. “Clearly I’m still wasted.” He moved his hand, smiling charmingly at her.

Darcy let out a peal of laughter and both of them winced at the sound. “Well, I don’t mind knowing that you want to have sex,” she admitted. “But maybe we should wait a bit?”

“I can live with that,” he said. He sat up again slowly, waiting incrementally to make sure that his head wasn’t going to fall off. When he was upright, he leaned towards her, intending to kiss her.

Darcy held a hand up between their mouths to stop him. “Much as I’d love to kiss you, birdbrain, your breath is _rank_ and mine isn’t much better.”

Clint pulled back, nodding his agreement. “How about dinner tonight then? Six o’clock?”

“Make it seven and you’ve got a deal,” Darcy said.

“I’ll see you then.” Clint crept out of bed, grabbing his clothes from the floor. After struggling into them, he let himself out of the room.

Darcy giggled once he was safely away, excited to finally have a date with Clint. Rolling back over in bed, she settled in to get more sleep and hopefully calm her headache before that evening.

Clint would have skipped down the hall if he didn’t think it would ruin his image and cause his head to fall off. He was glad he wasn’t skipping a moment later when he almost ran bodily into Natasha. “Tasha,” he sputtered.

“Barton,” she returned. She eyed him. “Why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”

“I’m…” he began until he saw the futility of protesting anything to her. “Fine. I am. Apparently I spent the night in Darcy’s apartment.” He held up a hand to forestall her questions. “Nothing happened.”

“And _will_ something happen?”

“We have a date tonight at seven.”

“Good. It’s about time.” With those words, she continued on her way, clearly having addressed what she needed.

Clint sighed, knowing it wasn’t worth trying to figure out why she was involved in his business. He continued on to his own room to get some sleep before his date with Darcy.


End file.
